Poor Elsie! Bad Otto!
Poor little Elsie Wisdom is at the vets right now. She was chased out of her own backyard by Otto, the thug-cat next door. He's been around. I'd seen her bolt up from the bottom of the garden yesterday morning but I mistook it for skittishness, random freneticism. Or perhaps she'd seen fairies. I'd even asked her what she was doing.
"Just having a bit of a run around the garden, are you, little kitty?"
I'd mown the lawn the day before which it had needed like you cannot believe my shame. I'd figured it must have been even more liberating for the shorter family members - a portend of hope for the rapidly chilling autumn - but it turns out it was just more valuable, conquerable terrain for Herr Otto. A new winter sport for when brittle sun rays shone and shadows were cast more artfully on the flat expanse of grass. Bloddy Otto.
Elsie (I nearly wrote Ruby... she'll never fade...) spliced the back of her thigh wide open on the corner edge of the tall metal sheet fence as she was chased over it. (Yet another reason to loathe Colourbond fencing in my arsenal against them.) I didn't know there were any raw edges but lo, the beautiful underneath curve of her leg was rended deeply and dramatically. It was so deep there was no blood, just sinew or muscle, indeterminate inside flesh (it was too gruesome and emergent to inspect) and a bulbous mass of--I mean, it looked like an organ. A bulbous mass of leg organ. I suppose it was a different, more major muscle; intact but protruding through to the outside air.
We scooped her up onto a thick, clean towel and placed her into her soft carrier. I'm so glad we have such a well-designed carrier. (Target a few years ago, around $22.99, in a sharp black/brown/white gingham with black piping, black mesh end windows, a roll-up plastic window which you can zip open just enough to pat/soothe them without them fleeing if anxious, a flat outside pocket, adequate [good] straps and handle including an internal one with a small G-clip to hook onto their collar if need be, soft black inner walls, the entire thing ventilated but private, yet kitty can see what's going on and be somewhat sociable if she wants. Do you know proud I am of this thing I didn't even design, and that it's better than those $75+ hard-shell cages *CLANG! YOU'RE IN JAIL* and that I totally love it?)
She had to go under general anaesthetic for the op, obv, and the vet said she'd have been in a moderate amount of pain. He might even have said "mild" but I almost believed him because Elsie was still bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, bless 'er li'l socks. She was notably compliant with the vet, but she had some spark too. She wasn't in shock.
Oh, Todd's on the phone to the vet now. I hope she can come home today!
Well, Herr Doktor won't know until later on... Come home, Elsie Wisdom! At least she's fine again and all muscles and skin pieces have been sutured back in place.
"Just having a bit of a run around the garden, are you, little kitty?"
I'd mown the lawn the day before which it had needed like you cannot believe my shame. I'd figured it must have been even more liberating for the shorter family members - a portend of hope for the rapidly chilling autumn - but it turns out it was just more valuable, conquerable terrain for Herr Otto. A new winter sport for when brittle sun rays shone and shadows were cast more artfully on the flat expanse of grass. Bloddy Otto.
Elsie (I nearly wrote Ruby... she'll never fade...) spliced the back of her thigh wide open on the corner edge of the tall metal sheet fence as she was chased over it. (Yet another reason to loathe Colourbond fencing in my arsenal against them.) I didn't know there were any raw edges but lo, the beautiful underneath curve of her leg was rended deeply and dramatically. It was so deep there was no blood, just sinew or muscle, indeterminate inside flesh (it was too gruesome and emergent to inspect) and a bulbous mass of--I mean, it looked like an organ. A bulbous mass of leg organ. I suppose it was a different, more major muscle; intact but protruding through to the outside air.
We scooped her up onto a thick, clean towel and placed her into her soft carrier. I'm so glad we have such a well-designed carrier. (Target a few years ago, around $22.99, in a sharp black/brown/white gingham with black piping, black mesh end windows, a roll-up plastic window which you can zip open just enough to pat/soothe them without them fleeing if anxious, a flat outside pocket, adequate [good] straps and handle including an internal one with a small G-clip to hook onto their collar if need be, soft black inner walls, the entire thing ventilated but private, yet kitty can see what's going on and be somewhat sociable if she wants. Do you know proud I am of this thing I didn't even design, and that it's better than those $75+ hard-shell cages *CLANG! YOU'RE IN JAIL* and that I totally love it?)
She had to go under general anaesthetic for the op, obv, and the vet said she'd have been in a moderate amount of pain. He might even have said "mild" but I almost believed him because Elsie was still bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, bless 'er li'l socks. She was notably compliant with the vet, but she had some spark too. She wasn't in shock.
Oh, Todd's on the phone to the vet now. I hope she can come home today!
Well, Herr Doktor won't know until later on... Come home, Elsie Wisdom! At least she's fine again and all muscles and skin pieces have been sutured back in place.